Steal My Cat

Friday, August 22, 2014

Just hung out with an amazing new lady-friend, which is a big deal for a homebody like myself. I declined to tell her about my thoughts on the "friend flirt", which in my (derranged) mind is how one goes about trying to make a new girlfriend, (for platonic hanging out, like friends...jesus christ). So naturally I will blog about it.

Here is an example of how I tried to friend flirt recently:"Cool girl" at local coffee shop: "Aw, I like your shirt" [I was wearing a shirt with a giant cartoon cat on it - for reference click here]Me: Thank you! Cool Girl: [polite smile and hands me my change]Me: I got it because it looks like my cat.Cool Girl: [polite smile] Me: His name is Stevie.Cool Girl: [silence]

Now, it might shock some of you who are reading, (i.e., my mom), to know that I have trouble making friends. On the outside, I look like an (occasionally)nice, (somewhat)normal, (mildly)respectable lady.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Random thought of the day: I really wish that I had punched the guy who once told me, during my freshman year of college, that "my face," (read: MY FACE!!), reminded him of a Picasso painting.

Now before you start thinking that this was just your typical bullshitt-y artsy-fartsy pick-up line, please observe the image that immediately flashed in my brain the second he said this:

It should also be noted that the guy who uttered this bit of brilliance had shaved what little hair remained on his head into polka dots. And then, literally, (please note the correct usage of this word), spray-painted, (read: SPRAY PAINTED!!!) it yellowy-orange:

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Friday, December 7, 2012

There is a small child voice coming from the street below repeatedly yell/singing, "P-U-P-P-Y, P-U-P-P-Y, THAT SPELLS PUPPIES!" ...I currently find myself torn between what My-Imaginary-Self should scream out to the tiny high-pitched creature who seems to be located directly below my bedroom window...

First off, no it doesn't. That is your first issue right there, kid. Secondly, old grumps are trying to sleep in this neighborhood and your post-dinner-sugar-induced-overtired-night-out-with-mom-and-dad-who-are-still-trying-to-have-a-life cheerleading is not appreciated at this ungodly hour, (9 PM! Come on, this is prime flop/collapse-from-exhaustion time for any self-respecting, overworked/underpaid educator)...And lastly, will whatever cosmic force that may or may not exist in the Universe please take pity on my fragile ears that are, (not to be too overdramatic), pummeled by little child voices everyday, allow me the peace and quiet of my radiator hum and no-child-left-behind-in-this-house (take em' home with you!) Friday night sanctuary.

Phew.

*If this is offensive to any baby-makers out there, I truly apologize. It is just that this week has been particularly grueling in the world of "Rrrr" vs. "uhhhh" ....yes, the dreaded "Rrrr" vs. "uhhhh" for the one hundred thousandth time and STILL, just when you think you cannot possibly have any more tricks/tips/magical-potions up your sleeve to get that cursed R sound out of this kid....

"Uhhh"

...Like a horrible beast in the night.

"WHY. CAN'T. YOU. JUST.SAY.IT"

*Morning edit (after a good night's sleep): I actually
do love my job/students....And taught 3 a "good r" this week...it was
just very difficult! Just sayin'